


your name on my wrist

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Male Character, Friends to Lovers, Lisa is a Badass, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: Thomas is fourteen, and he knows that picking a partner just because they carry the name that’s etched into your wrist is a bad idea.Or, there is no guidebook to finding your soulmate. For Thomas, the journey is a long one.





	your name on my wrist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Volpfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volpfly/gifts).



> Inspired by and dedicated to the lovely [Virgínia](https://fussballstuff.tumblr.com/)! You said you'd love me to write a soulmate AU – well, it's maybe not really angsty or contains that much internalized bi-/homophobia, but I hope you like it still?
> 
> This is likely the first and last soulmate I'll ever write; but I admit, it was genuinely fun. I hope y'all enjoy! Unbeta'd, as usual.

Thomas’ first girlfriend is called Manuela. He’s fourteen, and he knows that picking a partner just because they carry the name that’s etched into your wrist is technically a bad idea.

Technically.

But he’s the child of soulmate parents who are still terribly in love, and deep in his heart, he’s a true romantic after all.

’Manu’, his wrist says, short and sweet, in four neat little block capitals. That makes sense, too, as the names that are assigned to each person after their birth by some miracle-like wonder on the second day of your life to indicate their soulmate, usually depict what the person most commonly goes by, and not the full, legal name.

This Manu is – well, she’s nice. Quite tall for a fourteen-year-old, taller than him, with chestnut-brown curls and glass green eyes. Coy, a bit flirty. Nice. Whenever he stares at her over the room, she lifts her head, giggling and whispering with her friends even when they’re in class and the teacher sends the girls a dirty look. Thomas knows that his interest stems mostly from the fact that she carries the right name. Nevertheless, he hopes it’s reciprocated.

He asks her out three week before summer break. It’s seething hot and three days later she’s his first kiss, and it feels nothing like the kisses with your soulmate are described to feel like. In fact, the way she over-enthusiastically shoves her tongue down his throat is really not romantic at all.

Not that he has much to compare it to, but it’s a pretty shitty kiss.

Still, despite it all being very underwhelming, he keeps wishing that this is it. That she’s the one.

He’s the first of all his friends to be in a relationship. Most of them seem envious, but Holger only rolls his eyes.

“You know most people don’t meet their soulmates until they’re like, forty, right?”

He’s got a point, but Thomas doesn’t want to hear it. He tells Manu he loves her, even though he is pretty sure he doesn’t mean it, and she says it back in what seems like an afterthought as she’s typing furiously on her phone.

She wants to sleep with him two weeks after they start dating, but he’s not ready, and when she comes back from holidays and he goes to see her, he finds her in her room having sex with a guy two years above them.

With tears in his eyes, he demands she removed her wrist cover. She grins and does as he said – Andreas, it says, and the older boy in the room looks almost as hurt as Thomas feels.

Thomas is heartbroken. He’s never been in love, he realizes – this has been nothing but pretense, a pipe dream – but it hurts like a bitch either way.

A month later, Manu and her parents move to Berlin. Thomas never hears from her again.

 

He’s seventeen when he meets Lisa.

And man, is she beautiful. Lisa Trede, with a cheeky smile and quite some snark to her. She’s almost as tall as Manuela , but that’s where the similarities end. She’s resolute and blunt and funny and everything his ex wasn’t.

Obviously, she doesn’t have the right name, but Thomas finds himself falling for her harder and faster than he ever could for someone who isn’t his soulmate. Luckily, Lisa feels the same.

Thomas’ parents like her, and he beams when his father laughs at a joke she’s cracked, and how interested his mother seems in her ambition to become a dressage rider.

One and a half years later, Thomas gets offered a professional contract by Bayern. When he signs, Lisa is right there by his side, her chin on his shoulder and her arm around his waist as he almost tears up. It’s no surprise to anyone when he proposes to her only ten days later. Lisa cries, then laughs and pinches his side for taking her by surprise like that.

That night, they first lay like a couple, and it’s exhilarating, and for a fleeting seconds Thomas wonders if soulmates are actually something this world needs.

After, they lie side by side, panting, smiling.

It’s Lisa who speaks up again first.

“One day, we won’t be together anymore.”

She’s right and they both know it. Thomas observes her carefully as she unties her wrist cover, fingers never leaving from where he rests his hand on her smooth stomach. Georg, her soulmate is called, a good, solid name written in neat little cursive. Thomas ghosts his fingers over it, then hesitates only for a fraction of a second before untying his own.

Lisa tilts her head. “Manu, huh?”

Thomas nods, and it feels strange, to talk about it with her, to talk about the person you’re supposed to be with with the person you actually love – so he doesn’t, and instead he rolls onto his side and shuffles up to her until their noses are touching, kissing her once more.

They won’t be forever. But for now, it’s the present that counts. For now, they’re achingly in love.

Thomas hasn’t met anyone called Manu in four years.

 

He doesn’t really know why he’s never considered the possibility that his soulmate might not been a woman. Sure, he’s found himself admiring strong arms and great behinds on guys the same way he might appreciate a girl’s curves and her pretty face, has long put a name to the fact that he’s very much bisexual, but it’s only when he joins the National Team for the first time and finds himself sharing breakfast with their newly inaugurated Number One that it hits him.

Manuel Neuer goes by Manu, too, and he has a crooked half-smile on his lips that Thomas finds all too endearing. He ends up looking a bit stupefied when Thomas suddenly groans as the realization dawns on him.

Manu – his Manu – might very well be a man.

For a few seconds, his thoughts race through his mind and light speed. But then he takes a few deep breaths, remembers Lisa at home with her horses, laughing and joking, remembers that he’s got time and a perfect life, and decides that that is a thought for his future self, not the present one.

As it is, this Manu is nice. Shy, almost, which is rather uncommon for footballers, handsome in his broad shoulders and strong chin; pretty, nonetheless, with his full lips, soft cheeks and clear blue eyes.

Thomas isn’t stupid enough to think that they might be soulmates – he has learned his lesson the first time, and despite being rather cute, it’s not like he’s fallen head over heels in love with Manu Neuer at first sight.

But despite his resolution, the realization that his soulmate could be a man ends up haunting him. Being attracted to both women and men has never bothered him, but actually acting on those feelings, getting involved with a man … he’d never reject his soulmate, but the idea of having to hide because the industry he works in is everything but accepting of same sex couples? (Well, at least when it comes to the male variety.)

Yeah, that puts quite a damper on things.  
  
At first, each time he looks at goalkeeper-Manu, his heart clenches and he can’t help but think about his soulmate. What might they be doing? How do they live, act? But then, once Manu transfers to Bayern and Thomas sees him every day, he becomes a familiarity, a permanent fixture in his daily routine that’s a friend just like Fips, Basti and all the others. (Even if that certainly doesn’t explain the fierce protectiveness Thomas feels when he hears their fans booing him, holding up signs demanding for him to leave, the urge to pummel them into the ground and defend Manu with all he’s got.)

For years, Thomas doesn’t really think about his soulmate. Manu – the only of the name he knows and talks to these days – has a girlfriend and seems quite happy; Lisa is just as amazing as she always was. If he passed his soulmate on the street, Thomas might just accidentally overlook them.

In 2014, they win the World Cup and Thomas realizes he might not need anything else to be happy – he’s in love; he’s on the top of the world. What else is there left to desire?

Except that always, always there’s this little nagging voice in the back of his mind. It sounds a suspicious lot like Lisa and it’s whispering, teasing about the promise of more. Of something different, something that is not about to replaced by regular love or finding fulfillment in your love, your passion. And over time, at first barely noticeable, that promise grows into a wish, bigger and bigger until Thomas flinches one morning in late 2015, when they lay in bed and Lisa turns around to face him and looks at him with a frown.

“We aren’t in love anymore, are we.”

It’s not a question and they both know it. It’s been coming for years, really. Ever since the World Cup, things have changed. Things so small that at first they hadn’t even noticed – how they would rather greet each other with a hug than a kiss, the way they prefer to sit just side by side instead of huddled up to each other (because it’s more comfortable, you know?) – until sex felt like a chore and they realized they’d rather spend the evenings watching TV in bed and laughing about it together.

Thomas heaves a sigh – he’s being trying to avoid the truth, if willingly or subconsciously, he hardly knows.

He still loves Lisa, he does; adores her to bits, even. But as it is, his love for her resembles more that of a friend than that of a husband at this point.

“Do you want to get a divorce?”

Lisa laughs, loud and in an honest manner. It’s one of the things that made Thomas fall in love with her in the first place, but that flame has slowly been replaced by just a terrible fondness.

“What’s the rush?” she asks with a twinkle in her eyes, and Thomas finds himself inclined to agree.

So, they stay married, still eat at least one meal together every day if their schedules allow it, have fun together, act like best friends, and somehow, nothing changes.

But then, in a way, everything does. Thomas moves all his things to the guest bedroom and one day he comes home to find Lisa sitting at their dinner table with a man with a mop of messy dark strands and eyes just as dark but a soft smile.

Immediately, Thomas can tell from the sheer look of wonder in Lisa’s eyes that this is not just any stranger.

“Thomas? This is Georg. My soulmate.”

They do in fact, file for that divorce a few weeks later, and when Thomas is ready to leave for France with the National Team to fight for another title, he’s officially single.

 

The tournament is ... it’s fine, really. They make it, but not effortlessly, to the quarterfinals. Italy is their opponent, and it’s a tight game. So tight that it leads to penalties.

Thomas exchanges one glance with Manu as they regroup, squeezing his biceps in passing, offering him a tight nod in support.

Manu smiles. The smile is tense but genuine. Something in Thomas stomach untwists itself.

And with each penalty that is scored, each one that is missed and the two teams that keep one-upping one another, the audience grows quieter in between. It makes the roar that erupts when Jonas nets his own even louder. It’s bliss, it’s euphoria, it’s sweat and tears and laughter and relief. They all run towards Manu and Jonas – their heros – and Thomas finds himself in front of their goalkeeper in the huddle of their teammates, cradling his face in his hands, yelling at him– but suddenly, someone pushes at his back and …

And his lips brush against Manu’s accidentally and suddenly, his whole perception shifts.

It’s a tingle that runs down his spine, a renewed focus, a clearer view. It’s more – more than meets the eye; a matter that touches only the heart.

Thomas’ wrist itches.

Oh. _Oh!_

– a sentiment that he, relievingly, finds mirrored in his vice-captain’s eyes.

 

After the game there’s no time to talk. Manu gets whisked away for interviews immediately, Joshua jumps onto Thomas’ back and everything is loud, bright, overwhelming.

For once Thomas doesn’t feel the need to be a part of it.

Over the crowded tunnels, he just barely manages to catch Manu’s eyes. And even tho the goalkeeper quickly lowers his eyes, Thomas can’t help but notice the faint blush rising on his cheeks, and he smiles.

Their rooms are next to each other back in Evian, and their balconies connected. When Thomas steps out into the starry night hanging over a black lake, Manu is already there.

“Hey”, Manu whispers, breathlessly, and Thomas wants to reach out, feel him under his fingertips, confirm that this is real, that _he_ is real–

But no, they need to do this the sensible way. Thomas fiddles with his wrist cover.

“I always used to think it was a coincidence, you know? At first, I never even considered the possibility it might not be a girl. That it could be a guy – a guy just like you. But it’s not, is it?”

He pulls the cover off, tracing the neat little letters with his fingertips. The script seems almost illuminated from within in the middle of the night, shimmering mysteriously.

Manu stares at it wordlessly for a while, then he lets out a dry chuckle.

“Well, at least you got to pretend that it _could_ be a girl. I’ve had to deal with having a guy’s name on my wrist for my entire life.” – He clears his throat – “Not that I ever had a real interest in them. Girls, I mean.”

He leans forward on the railing, and looks out at the lake. The figure he cuts is imposing in its own right, but he seems to bleed into the background, hiding away with the shadows.

“I always hoped it was you. But you had Lisa …” he trails off, sighing.

“You thought we were soulmates.” Thomas raises an eyebrow, even though he’s sure Manu can’t see it.

“How could I not?! Have you ever _seen_ the two of you?! But then you broke up and–” he breaks off, sighing, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Oh, Manu.”

This time, Thomas does reach out, finger caressing over Manu’s wrist.

“Can I?”

Manu nods. His wrist cover is a simple, nude colour. It’s still very tight; he probably hasn’t taken it off very often.

Thomas holds his breath as he finally uncovers the letters. They’re messy, sprawling. On first glance almost unreadable.

It’s strange, seeing your name etched into someone else’s skin. Yours, not the the same that so many people other than you carry, but _yours_. Because somehow, he knows.

Thomas looks up at Manu again, at his teammate, his friend – his soulmate. He stares at him with wide eyes and a tentative smile.

He looks down again, gently touching their wrists together like you’re supposed to. They both gasp at the exact same time, and with an inaudible click, Thomas feels their souls connecting.

Manu beams at him, and the moonlight illuminates his hair.

It almost feels like a necessity that Thomas leans in, raising his heels ever so slightly, and kisses him.

Manu tastes like the win a few hours before, like the sweat of summer, freshly cut grass. Like teary smiles, the night and the stars and everything in the entire universe. Manu smiles against his lips and Thomas realizes he never wants to kiss anyone else ever again.

Manu’s hands cradle his face as Thomas lets his rest on the taller one’s hips, drawing circles into his sides with his thumbs.

They both pant when they separate. The air has grown even more humid. Manu’s eyes sparkle to rival the stars, and his wrist pulsates with light, shimmering in all colours of the rainbow.

Thomas chuckles. “Hope that’ll go down with time, or it will look like a rave when we show up to training tomorrow.”

For a second, Manu looks at him as if he’s grown a second head, then he bursts out laughing, heartily, warmly, before finally dissolving into giggles. He shakes his head with a grin.

“Christ, Thomas. I love you.”

He almost looks a bit taken aback by his own words at first, but then his grin slowly morphs into a smile, and his eyes go soft, vulnerable. “Yeah. I _do_ love you.”

And Thomas knows, is quite aware that saying it back is ridiculous, because they’ve known each other for six years, have been friends for just as long, and of course he loves Manu, he always has, but up until six hours ago he would have never allowed himself to think that it even _could_ be this kind of love –

But it is.

And so, he reaches up, letting the back of his hand graze over Manu’s stubbly cheek as his soulmate’s eyes flutter shut.

“I love you too. I’m only just starting to realize how much.”

They kiss again. And there they are again, the fireworks.

 

It’s only when they come down from their high quite a bit later, as Manu carefully positions his head on Thomas’ shoulder after he slipped under the blankets with him, naked apart from his boxers, that Thomas realizes that somehow, this is everything that his twenty-year-old self never wanted.

They will have to hide – from pretty much everyone, even. Nothing will stay the same but everything will have to.

But then Manu looks at him questioningly, looking so damn innocent and way too beautiful for a thirty-year-old man, as Thomas cards his fingers through his short hair, scratching his scalp until Manu sighs contently, snuggling against him, turning out to be surprisingly cuddly now that they finally know what they are to each other, and he finds that he doesn’t care.

He’s got his soulmate in his arms, and that is all that counts.

Manu softly grins up at him and Thomas leans down for another kiss.

And each day he’ll be able to do that will be a good one. No matter what.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, fun fact, the marks are not actually written in your soulmate's handwriting, but in a style that represents them as a person. Touching the wrists against each other is actually connecting your soul to the one of your soulmate, just like Thomas described it.
> 
> I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way. Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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